


Lines That Burn

by Anjelle



Series: Other Worlds than These [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dimension Travel, Family, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Some characters are OOC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23583667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anjelle/pseuds/Anjelle
Summary: Naruto remembers the pain of the nine-tailed fox being ripped from his body by the Akatsuki with the orange mask, so he's confused when he wakes somewhere entirely new and still very much alive. In place of the missing Akatsuki is Obito Uchiha, a uniformed man with a sharp tongue who claims to know him. Something isn't right.This place is Konoha, but nothing about it is familiar.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi & Uzumaki Naruto, Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito, Namikaze Minato & Uzumaki Naruto, Namikaze Minato/Uzumaki Kushina, Uchiha Obito & Uzumaki Naruto, Uzumaki Kushina & Uzumaki Naruto
Series: Other Worlds than These [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696783
Comments: 11
Kudos: 155





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the companion story to Idle Worship, which I posted the first chapter to last night. They can be read together or separately. A warning that in this alternate universe, characters will be ooc to varying degrees, though I tried to incorporate their backstories into how they act. There will be minor pairings in this, nothing explicit, and the major focus will be on character interaction.
> 
> Stay safe, everyone, and enjoy!

He's screaming when he wakes up, scrabbling across the muddy forest floor, frantic hands patting down his chest. When he finally grabs hold of himself, he pulls up the hem of his shirt to stare at his stomach. No visible seal. He breathes in relief.

Then the pain hits. His body aches something fierce and he bites back a whine as he breathes through the first wave. It passes. Compared to before, this pain is nothing. Eventually, the wave passes and he stares up at the night sky through the trees, panting and exhausted.

Where is he? Last he remembers, the Akatsuki were trying to pull Kurama from his body. That Tobi guy was there. Or Madara, or whatever the hell he’s calling himself now. A sharingan eye stared out at him from behind a twisted orange mask and they were extracting the kyuubi and Naruto was going to die and—

And he's alive. He's alive and that means that they didn't take Kurama and that brings him so much relief because he was _so sure_ that there was no way out of that mess. The only problem is that he can't feel Kurama's chakra. That is not good. Definitely not good. No, no, it'll be fine. It _will_ be fine. It has to be. He's not dead, so there's no way that the Akatsuki got the kyuubi. Naruto will remain positive.

That doesn't answer the question of where he is, though. He gets up and drags his battered body through the trees with all the force of a stopped train. He can't even begin to guess where he is. Nothing looks familiar—a forest is a forest is a forest. It all looks the same. He has no food or supplies or any way to contact Konoha. When he reaches for his chakra, it doesn't obey. It's there, but it's useless to him right now. Damn it.

He isn't sure how far he walks or for how long. Eventually, he comes to a break in the trees. A road. This road feels odd, but roads are good. Roads lead to villages and people and maybe this is his shot at finding shelter. If nothing else, he has to keep moving. Akatsuki will no doubt send someone after him. Or a lot of someones. And right now Naruto won't be able to handle that.

A bright light strains his eyes and Naruto brings up a hand to block it. Something screeches to a halt. There's this loud, echoing _thing_. It's growling at him. He almost wants to growl back. But then there's a person. They step in front of the light, a black silhouette, and then there's another light there to join the first. Naruto is getting a headache.

“Hey, kid,” the stranger calls.

Something nags at the back of Naruto’s mind and all he can see is an orange mask and a sharingan eye. He stumbles. His sandals slip in the mud and then he’s lying face-down on the ground, right at the edge of the road.

The man crouches down in front of him and Naruto expects to see red. He expects to be greeted by Madara’s swirling tomoe. But he’s not. He can’t make out much, but this man is in uniform. What the uniform is for, he hasn’t the faintest. It’s like nothing he’s ever seen before—not that he can see _much_ of it.

“The hell do you think you’re doing out here at 3am? Do your parents know where you are?”

Naruto frowns. Who’s this guy think he is?

“‘Course not. Fuckin’ teenagers…” The man mutters something under his breath. Something crackles along the air—a sound. It’s coming from behind the stranger, from the source of the light. The man clicks his tongue and gets up, grabbing the noisy _thing_. He talks to it. And it talks back. A two-way radio?

Naruto gathers himself up to sit back on his haunches. His eyes are adjusting to the light now. He sees the big, wheeled _thing_ sat on the other side of the road. It’s humming and vibrating and sounds angry in a way.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll bring ‘im in. See if I can get a name out of him.” The stranger puts the radio down and sighs as he twists back around. “You hear that, kid? You better start talking if you don’t want to spend your night at the station—”

The man looks at Naruto and frowns. “...Nart?”

Naruto makes a face. His head is pounding, his clothes are sticky and wet, and he’s pretty sure that he just survived some madman’s attempt at tearing a tailed beast out of his stomach. Now he’s somewhere he doesn’t know with some guy calling him stupid names. It really isn’t his night.

The stranger’s helmet, formerly secured beneath his arm, clatters against the hard surface of the road. Suddenly he’s here and not there, kneeling before Naruto with tightly gripping hands and frantic eyes, turning the boy one way and then the other.

“Hey, hey kid, what the _hell—_ I mean—shit, it’s been _seven months._ Where the fuck have you been?!”

Naruto is momentarily shell-shocked. He’s staring up at this man with wide eyes, his focus no longer on his steadily pounding head. This guy has a sharp tongue, but his eyes are pleading. But Naruto doesn’t know him. Naruto’s never seen this guy before. He shoves away the hands on his shoulders and puts some distance between them. Everything in his body screams at him to just sit down for a bit but he won’t.

The weird guy isn’t perturbed. He blinks, arms fall to his sides, and he frowns. “Hey, Naruto,” he says, voice tight. “What… what happened to you?”

“Nothing,” he hisses. He’s in pain, this guy is a stranger, and something isn’t adding up. “Who’re you supposed to be? An—an’ how do you know my name? You with the Akatsuki?”

He hates that he even asked. He doesn’t want an answer to that. If this guy _is_ with the Akatsuki then—

Then what does it mean for him?

But Naruto is a sensor type. And something he notices, something that causes him to push through the fog of the headache to focus, is that he senses _nothing_ from this man. No chakra.

This man is no shinobi.

It takes time for the stranger’s shoulders to slump, for him to rub at his neck and gather up off the ground. Lightning splits the sky with the soon-to-follow roar of thunder, and they have their warning. The rain will start again soon. It’s only a matter of time.

Heavy material drops down on Naruto’s shoulders like lead. He looks up, blinking at the stranger, holding onto the edges of the fabric. The jacket warming him now is thick and stiff. A helmet is dropped onto his head next.

“C’mon,” the man says, his voice so quiet and empty now. “Let’s get you out of the rain.”

Naruto averts his eyes to the ground and nods. He isn’t sure why he allows himself to be led over to that weird metal thing with the radio and the lights, or why he willfully gets on it. Something tells him that his best option is to listen and so he does. He isn’t sure that he should, that this is the right move or that this man is to be trusted, but his intuition’s never been wrong yet.

He regrets it immediately when that screaming metal death trap starts to move.

* * *

Obito sits at his desk with interlocked fingers pressed to his lips as he drowns out the background noise of the police station. Across from him sits a blond so instantly recognizable that all the officers walking by greet him with a wave and a smile. And the blond notices. Oh, he _does_. But with every greeting, he bristles like a cornered animal. That doesn’t sit well with Obito, but that’s hardly where it ends.

Obito’s known Naruto pretty much his whole life. But Obito doesn’t know this boy. This boy is young. Sixteen, maybe seventeen. The jumpsuit he wears beneath Obito’s jacket is stained a dirty brown, frayed and worn at the seams. The black is faded grey, the orange is soiled, and the whole thing looks pointedly bizarre. Where did he even get clothes like that?

Naruto smells. He smells of earth and sweat and the tang of old injury. This kid’s been through hell, anyone can see that. Across his forehead rests a headband with some swirly leaf symbol etched into the metal plate on the front. Obito tried to remove it when they first got there, tried to lighten the mood with some teasing remark—”You taking up cosplay now, Nart?”—and his hand was caught in a crushing grip.

The warning in Naruto’s eyes stunned him. Naruto has never looked at him like that before.

Now it seems the fight has left the kid. He’s sitting there, slumped in his chair with his blue eyes cast to the floor. Boy, does he not look well. So pale. So tired. When was the last time the kid ate, even?

There are scars on Naruto’s cheeks that were not there before, carved into his skin. They look so wrong, so glaringly obvious on that face.

Naruto is smaller and younger and scarred and scared. He is so many things and none of them are right.

Obito sighs, slumping back in his office chair, tapping the back of his pen impatiently against the desk. His first step is to notify the kid’s family, but he’s not sure what he should say to them. Naruto doesn’t seem to recognize him. What’s more, his appearance and attitude are all over the place. He can’t start with the parents; he knows that much. He also doesn’t think bringing Naruto straight to the apartment he shares with Kakashi is the best idea in the world, especially without a warning. It wouldn’t be fair.

He worries Naruto won’t recognize Kakashi, either.

“Hey,” he calls. The kid settles him beneath a narrowed look. “When’s the last time you ate? You hungry? I can order pizza.”

Naruto’s lips twitch. He holds the jacket tighter around his shoulders and for a moment, Obito’s sure that the offer is going to be completely ignored. Then the boy ducks down, casts his eyes to the floor, and mutters, “You got any ramen?”

That is the most Naruto thing that he’s said all night.

A tired smirk tugs at a corner of Obito’s mouth and he pushes off his chair. “Ramen it is. Keep still a sec.”

Obito retreats to the staff lounge. He works enough extra hours to come prepared; there are more than a few packets of instant food hidden in the cupboards there. As he boils a kettle of water and leans back against the counter, he fishes his phone out of his pocket. Kakashi’s number is the first he goes to.

It rings a good five times before going to voicemail and Obito rolls his eyes. The bastard’s asleep, no doubt. Any reasonable person would be. Fuck, Obito wishes that he was sleeping right there alongside Kakashi. But fine. Whatever. That’s never enough to deter Obito. He tries again. Again and again and again, and by the fifth call, the ringing is abruptly cut off.

 _“Do you have any idea what time it is?”_ Kakashi growls through the phone, his voice dripping exhaustion. _“When was the last time you checked the clock?”_

Obito sighs, propping his free arm up on the counter. “It’s five.”

 _“It’s five,”_ Kakashi repeats bitterly, enunciating every syllable with perfect clarity even through his haze of sleep. _“It’s five, Obito, and last I checked, I don’t work the graveyard shift.”_

He glances at the kettle as the water rises to a bubble, steam forced out through the thin spout. “Look, I’m sorry, alright?”

_“Then take a hint after the first four calls—”_

“It’s Naruto.” He waits. The voice on the other end is silent. Complaints fall away to nothing and Obito’s pretty sure that his roommate is awake now. “I found him.”

There’s a rustle, an echo of something dropping and a curse. He can imagine Kakashi stumbling blindly through the dark of his bedroom in search of clothes. _“Where are you? The station?”_

“Don’t come,” he says before he can stop himself. He bites his lip. Fuck, what is he doing?

 _“Obito,”_ Kakashi warns.

“I’ll—” Fuck. “I’ll bring him over, okay?”

_“You can’t tell me you found him and expect me to—”_

“Something’s wrong.” It stumbles out of his mouth like a reflex. He’s never been able to lie to Kakashi. Never. Not once since childhood. There’s always been something so impossibly comforting about Kakashi’s presence and it has words flowing from his lips like water. Everything comes out, whether he wants it to or not. “It’s not like last time. He’s not—” _Fuck._ “Just don’t, okay? I’ll talk to him. Bring him over once things have calmed down. I just wanted to give you some warning.”

When he isn’t immediately met with protest, he knows Kakashi will listen. And damn it, he’s so grateful things aren’t like they were when they were kids. If Kakashi didn’t trust him with this, if he showed up in a public area like this and saw Naruto like _that_ …

It’s five in the morning and Obito has a big enough mess on his hands.

_“Yeah. Okay. Fine.”_

Obito snorts. “Get some sleep. We’ll grill him when I get home.”

_“You expect me to sleep?”_

“Not really, no.” The kettle goes off and he grabs a bowl from the cupboard. “Gotta go. Kid wants ramen. Meditate or something. I’ll head over soon.”

_“Don’t let him eat that instant crap you stash at the station.”_

“‘Course not.”

He hangs up and his eyes fall on the packet of instant ramen. He wants to laugh, just a bit.

Well, some lies _are_ easier than others.

Obito is _not_ amused when he returns to see that Naruto is not where he was left. He strings together a colourful pattern of foul-mouthed curses, asks around, and soon finds the boy sitting on the front steps of the station. His coworkers don’t stop Naruto because they know him. They figure that he’s in there visiting family. Naruto used to stop by all the time with coffee or dinner. Umbrellas. Coats. The station isn’t far from his school. They used to grab lunch together. No one bats an eye at him.

Naruto looks small and pitiful against the towering buildings that line the street. People gawk at him as they walk by—the few midnight stragglers making their way home from the downtown bars. Really can’t blame them—he’s a sight. He stands out.

Obito’s not good with situations like this. He never knows where to put himself. But he eventually takes a seat next to the boy, shoving the bowl into Naruto’s arms. Naruto stares down at it, then turns to Obito.

“Don’t tell your brother,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What?”

“Last thing I need is for him to find out I—fuck it, nevermind.”

Naruto shrugs it off. Soon, he’s eating. The kid must be hungry because the way he’s wolfing down that ramen is downright nasty, like he’s been starved for three days. And his manners—well, whatever. Obito doesn’t have any manners, either.

The bowl is empty, discarded onto the stone steps, and Naruto leans back to rest his full weight on his palms. For a while, they just people watch. With time, he sees that he’s grabbing the kid’s attention. He catches blue eyes glancing his way now and then, analyzing him, and that’s okay. That’s better than earlier.

Obito doesn’t know what that was earlier. He’s scared to find out.

“You know what, Mister?” _Mister._ Obito wants to laugh. Oh, something’s wrong, alright. “You’re pretty okay.”

“Only ‘okay’?” He places a hand over his heart. “Man, that hurts, Nart. Cuts me deep.”

“Would you stop calling me that? Name’s Naruto Uzumaki. Learn it. _Use it._ ”

“Oh I know your damn name, kid,” he assures, forcing back the bile in his throat. He feels like he’s going to be sick. This is so wrong. Everything about this is wrong. Everything is wrong and he doesn’t want to think of how Kakashi’s going to react to this. But he can’t let that show. He’s the adult right now. He needs to be the rock that Naruto leans on. “But you’ll always be Nart to me.”

“I _hate_ that.”

“I know. It’s great.”

Naruto pouts at him. Honestly, it’s a relief. This is the most normal that Naruto’s felt ever since their 3am encounter on the outskirts of town. He’ll take it. “Who even are you?”

Obito slouches, his elbows propped up on his knees. He squeezes his hands together. A lot of pieces are fitting together now and he’s not liking the picture they’re creating. “Obito Uchiha,” he says. “I’ve known you since before you could walk.”

“Yeah, okay, buddy.” Naruto throws his arms behind his head and kicks back with a yawn. “Only Uchiha left are Sasuke and Itachi. Though…” He makes a face. “...You kinda look like ‘em. But I’ve never seen you before.”

Huh. Okay. It stings, sure—but now the pieces to this puzzle are looking a whole lot weirder than they did before.

Obito knows this isn’t as simple as it seems. He has ever since he set eyes on the boy—this college-aged student looking like he hasn’t even finished high school. And maybe he’s crazy. Hell, he’s _fine_ with being crazy. But doesn’t Naruto look a little…

He looks like he doesn’t belong here.

“Where is this place, anyway?” Naruto stares out at the street, squinting to see as far into the distance as his eyes will allow.

“Konoha,” Obito says absently. He’s thinking now. He’s not sure _what_ he’s thinking, but he’s thinking. Naruto remembers Sasuke and Itachi. What about Kakashi? Sakura? His parents? Should he ask? No, probably not, or—wait, maybe—

His spiralling thoughts are broken by a hearty laugh. Naruto looks like he’s about to cry. “Good one,” he rasps out, clutching his stomach. “This, Konoha? Yeah, right. Where’s the Hokage’s office, then? And Ichiraku? Buddy, I _live_ in Konoha. This ain’t it.”

Obito slowly turns to stare at him. None of what this kid just said makes any sense.

Slowly, Naruto’s smile fades. “What?” he asks, a nervous edge to his voice as he swallows. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”

Obito frowns.

“What?!”

He hesitates.

“What’d I say?!”

Eventually, Obito asks, “What the hell is a Hokage?”

The colour fades from Naruto’s face and Obito is concerned.

* * *

Obito has had a night. He’s feeling twice his age by the time he pulls up to his two bedroom flat.

Naruto won’t shut up. After their talk on the front stairs of the police station, Naruto’s voice has been a constant buzzing in his ear. The kid rambles on and on about _ninja_ of all things and about how he’s from the _real_ Konoha which is _totally definitely not this one_. The ‘real Konoha’ is a ‘hidden village’ of ‘shinobi’ or whatever where this person called the Hokage rules. And one day, Naruto is going to _be_ the Hokage. _Believe it._

This is reminding him too much of the pirate phase Naruto went through at sixteen and boy, does Obito not want to relive those days.

Obito looks in his rearview mirror at the brat in the back seat. Naruto stopped narrating this made-up world of his once the car started moving, as though he’s never seen one before. He even struggles to open the door once they’re parked.

Okay, that may have been Obito’s fault. He may have activated the child safety lock. And it may not have been on accident.

Before he unlocks it, he twists around in his seat to meet the boy head on. “Listen up, Nart.”

Naruto rolls his eyes dramatically, and Obito does not miss this kid’s teenage years, not one bit. “I told you not to call me that.”

“Don’t care, shut up.” He leans on the headrest and points toward the entrance of the flat. “See that there?”

Naruto pouts but follows the gesture to the building.

“That’s my place. You’re going to be staying with me for now. You hearin’ me, ninja boy?”

The kid nods.

“I don’t live alone,” he continues. “And my roommate’s been missing his baby brother. So—listen to me.”

Naruto flinches, halfway to rolling down the window. He has a shorter attention span than what Obito remembers and he knows it, if the guilt on his face is anything to go by. “But—”

“No, shut up.” He narrows his eyes and _dares_ the brat to interrupt him. Silence is a pleasant surprise. “So you’re going to go in there. You’re going to let him see that you’re okay. You’re going to let him dote on you and you’re going to let him ask questions. What you’re _not_ going to do is—”

“But I don’t have a brother.”

“Say that. You’re _not going to say that_. Under no fucking circumstances do you say that to him, Naruto. I fucking swear you will regret it.”

Naruto slumps back and matches his glare. It lacks the desperation of the one before it, from when Obito tried to take his headband. Naruto’s lost his edge in the hours between then and sunrise. He’s still dirty and tired and sore, still scarred. Still young. But while he’s so many things that he really should not be, he’s lacking the tightly-coiled distrust that he started out with. It’s progress. “I don’t see why I gotta pretend to be some guy’s brother. I haven’t even met the guy.”

“Naruto,” he warns. “Don’t. Shut up. You’re not allowed to talk like that inside.”

 _“Fine,”_ he hisses, throwing his hands in the air. “I’ll lie to the guy! Jeez…”

Obito hangs his head and sighs. The moment he switches the child safety lock off, Naruto’s flying out the car door and up the steps. This whole fucking mess is a disaster lying in wait.

Obito gets his kicks from conspiracy theories. He loves that shit. But for all that he likes reading up on the outlandish ideas that people put out there, he’s a practical thinker at heart. His world is rooted in logic and reason. It wasn’t always like that. He can remember a time years ago when he believed just about anything that was presented to him the right way. But that was then. Obito is no longer the lonely, desperate child that he once was. Obito is rational.

Obito is rational and that is why the Naruto he sees running up the steps to knock on his front door is _wrong._

He is wholeheartedly convinced that Naruto does not know him. He just doesn’t know _why._

* * *

Kakashi is on his fourth cup of coffee. He spent twenty minutes at five in the morning searching for espresso only to realize that they ran out. The coffee is a mistake—it only feeds his anxiety. He’s been pacing around the apartment for the past two hours, doing whatever he can think of to keep busy. He cleans. There isn’t _much_ to clean because he customarily doesn’t let the apartment get very dirty, but he manages a few chores between his racing thoughts. He’s sure if he invades Obito’s room he’ll have _plenty_ to do, but boundaries exist for a reason.

Those boundaries were torn down years ago, but sometimes it’s nice to pretend.

 _“I’ll head over soon.”_ That is what Obito said to him, but it’s been two hours. The sun is up. The building is alive with the sounds of running showers and the bustle of cars burning fuel in the parking lot. Kakashi isn’t normally the impatient type, but he has his moments.

Seven months is a long time, even for Naruto.

The moment he hears the wheezing engine of Obito’s beat up little car, he pushes aside the kitchen curtains to look out the window at the street below. They’re in the car. He can vaguely make them out, Obito twisted around in his seat. They’re talking. _Naruto is there_ in the back seat and they’re talking.

He feels seven months of tension fall off his shoulders and he’s lightheaded. While he waits for them to get inside, he tries to drown the caffeine in his stomach with water. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and steadies himself on the kitchen table, wondering how to approach this. What should he say first? He doesn’t want to suffocate the boy; that didn’t go over well last time. He doesn’t want to push Naruto away, either.

This isn’t the first time that Naruto’s dropped off the face of the earth. The first time was four years ago. It lasted a grand total of three months and in those three months he kept in contact with Sasuke. Kakashi didn’t fault him for that. But this time is different. This time, Sasuke’s left in the dark as well. His wallet was left in his bedroom at their parents’ place—all of his ID, his credit card, the last fifty dollars he had stashed away and a coupon to the local barbecue. He left his phone still plugged in on his nightstand. Naruto left with _nothing._

And now he’s back. And Kakashi doesn’t know what to think of that.

Kakashi doesn’t emote well. Usually, he keeps everything to himself until he no longer can, until one misplaced word forces it all to the surface and he’s angry and bitter and frustrated with himself. Usually, Obito’s the trigger. Obito knows how to deal with him when he’s been pushed just a little too far. He’ll gladly send any anger right back Kakashi’s way. Kakashi is grateful for Obito.

He’s _not_ grateful for being woken up at five in the goddamn morning.

Kakashi covers his face with his hands and tries not to scream. His thoughts are all over the place and he feels like he could fall asleep at any moment. But he can’t. Not now. Naruto’s right there.

There’s a knock at the door. He steels himself, chugs the last of his water, and opens it.

A young boy stares up at him. His eyes are wide and he's mouthing a name that he never quite vocalizes. But this boy—there's a mistake. This boy has their mother's face and their father's eyes and yes, he looks like Naruto, and _yes_ , there is no one else that he could be, but—

He's young. He's so young. His cheeks are scarred and his skin is bruised and his clothes are in tatters—

"Your mask!"

Kakashi opens his mouth and says nothing.

Naruto points a shaky finger at Kakashi's face. "Y-you took off your mask!" He stares hard, baffled by something, until slowly the shock turns to disappointment. "...Aw, man. What the heck? You're normal."

Kakashi does not know what to say. Naruto pushes his way inside and looks around as though he's never been here before. Behind him, Obito is climbing the steps with that grumpy look on his face—the one that _screams_ frustration. The one he usually takes with his cousins when they get a little bit too close.

Kakashi's internal conflict is shoved out of conscious thought when his roommate meets him at the landing.

"The heck is this place?" Naruto asks behind him, rummaging through the cupboards like he owns the place. "Ya got any food? I'm _starving._ "

Obito raises his eyes heavenward and shakes his head. "You just ate, you shit."

"Yeah, _two hours ago._ "

"Shove it. Go wash up. Should be some spare clothes in the hall closet."

"'Kay."

The boy vanishes down at the hall and Obito gives him a _look._ One that he gives right back.

"I can explain," Obito starts. He cuts himself off, curses and runs a hand through his hair. "No, I can’t. _Fuck._ I dunno what's going on, okay? I found him like that."

Kakashi leans against the doorframe and just breathes for a bit. There are so many questions that he just can't ask. He wants to, though. One in particular is bothering him. He can't resist tapping his cheek. "The, uh—"

"I asked," Obito grunts, shoving a hand into his pocket. "Says he's always had 'em."

"But—"

"I _know,_ okay? But that's what he said."

Kakashi nods. He's held off on saying anything to his parents because of Obito's warning. He's glad he did. What _is this_?

Obito shoves him aside and tears through the kitchen for a meal of his own. His exact actions mirror Naruto's from moments earlier and it would be funny, if the situation surrounding them didn't snuff out the humour. Obito settles on cereal—because it’s easy—and takes a seat at the island counter.

“Where did you find him?”

“The forest,” Obito mutters between bites, already halfway through the bowl. It’s a wonder he doesn’t choke. “Before you ask, no clue. Said he doesn’t know how he got there.”

That’s not good.

“Said he’s a _ninja_. And—don’t touch that headband. The stupid one with the metal bit. He’ll freak.”

This is a lot.

Kakashi sits down next to his roommate, pressing his lips to his hands as he stares off at nothing. He works through the moment carefully and cautiously, trying to make sense of what he’s hearing.

There’s a hand on his back, smoothing circles between his shoulder blades, and he doesn’t need to look to feel Obito’s reassurance.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, hanging his head. “Yeah.”

* * *

Naruto closes the bathroom door as soon as he enters and leans back against it, letting out a shaky breath. That—that’s _Kakashi-sensei_ out there. That’s his instructor, his team leader. That man is Kakashi. There’s no mask covering his face, no hitai-ate slanted on his forehead.

_And no sharingan._

That man is not Kakashi-sensei. But he _is_ Kakashi.

There’s a lot going on right now that’s flying over Naruto’s head. He’s trying to put the pieces together but it’s hard. His body aches and he still can’t get in touch with the fox, no matter how hard he tries. Normally, he wouldn’t care—good riddance to the jerk. But he just came out of something that should have killed him, some madman trying to tear the fox from him by force. And now the fox is gone. The implications are _not good._

Then there’s that guy. Obito. Obito Uchiha. This guy is claiming to be from Sasuke’s clan, but that doesn’t make any sense. But then, neither does the fact that this Obito guy’s roommate _apparently_ thinks that Naruto is somehow his _brother_ —

And that roommate is Kakashi. Kakashi— _his j_ ō _nin instructor Kakashi_. And that’s just setting in. This Kakashi, this weird, uncanny copy of the sensei that he knows, sees him as a brother.

Naruto is feeling a lot of things right now. None of them are good.

Eventually, he pries himself away from the door and strips. It takes a little finagling to figure out the taps for the bath, but he manages. As the water runs like a waterfall into the tub, he sets his hitai-ate on the counter next to the sink, tracing the engraving with the pad of his thumb. This could be a genjutsu. It could be a trick. There are so many things it could be and yet his instincts are telling him that he’s safe.

This is Konoha. This _is Konoha._ Obito says so. And Obito, he’s an asshole, but he’s not…

He’s not _bad._

When the tub is over half filled, Naruto eases his way into it. It’s only once he’s submerged that he realizes he forgot to grab clothes from the hall like Obito told him to. Whatever. His clothes are _fine._

He casts eyes to the pile of dirty, mud-stained threads on the floor and grimaces at the thought of putting them back on. But Naruto is nothing if not stubborn.

After scrubbing at his hair and skin with the various unfamiliar soaps and shampoos he finds on the shelves, the water turns a murky grey. He drains it. Then, he fills the tub back up. By the end, the water coming out is no longer warm. The mirror’s all fogged up and the walls are weeping from the steam, but the bath’s lukewarm and miserable. He stays in it anyway just to prolong his time alone. He’s not sure what he’ll face when he gets back out there. What stupid shit is going to come out of Obito’s mouth next? Is Sasuke pining over Sakura here? Is Pervy Sage a monk? Did Granny Tsunade stop gambling?

It hits him then, like lightning. He bolts upright and stares wide-eyed at the wall.

_Another world._

A knock at the door pulls him from that thought and he eases himself back down into the bathwater. He takes a breath, pushes back the _unending implications of what he has just realized_ , and calls out, “Yeah?”

The door opens a crack, but he can’t quite see through it at this angle.

“Can I come in?”

It’s Kakashi’s voice. It doesn’t sound right—there’s a different inflection to the words. It’s less lazy. There’s more behind it. But no, it’s _still Kakashi._ It’s just… a different side of him. Or a different version.

_A different world._

“Yeah,” he answers, “go ahead.”

The door swings open fully to show the man on the other side in all of his unmasked glory. It’s jarring, sure, but Naruto made a promise. He _promised_ he wouldn’t cause trouble. Obito warned him right from the start of how this man sees him and maybe—maybe Obito is being honest. Maybe there’s another Naruto that lives here, just like there’s another Kakashi. And maybe _that_ Naruto considers _this_ Kakashi to be family. To be a brother. That’s weird and strange and Naruto isn’t sure he gets it, but… Kakashi _is_ like family to him, in a way. The same way that Sakura is. The way Sasuke should be.

Thoughts like these are what help him keep that promise.

“Towels,” Kakashi explains, gesturing to the load in his arms.

“Oh. Uh. Thanks.”

Kakashi slips further into the room to put them down when his foot hits the crumpled jumpsuit discarded on the floor. Metal scraps against metal through the fabric. He frowns, shifting the towels into one arm as he reaches for the pile with the other. He pulls up Naruto’s kunai pouch. There’s a wordless stare, as though Kakashi is asking permission to look, to which Naruto just shrugs.

Setting down the towels, Kakashi opens it. His face turns hard as he pulls a kunai free. He’s holding it wrong which, honestly, is not something Naruto ever thought that he would see. But there he is, holding the handle between two fingers like the damn thing personally wronged him.

“Naruto?” Kakashi hedges. “What’s this?”

Naruto is speechless. He leans over the edge of the tub, folding his arms overtop it, and gawks openly. “You, too?” He makes a noise of frustration. “Aw, c’mon! Why’s everything gotta be so different here?!”

Then he shuts up. He remembers his promise. He won’t cause trouble. He’ll pretend to be this pseudo-sensei’s little brother, if only for everyone’s sake of mind.

“It’s, uh—” He scratches his head. “Kunai. It’s a kunai. You know? Ninja weapon.”

Kakashi stares into the kunai pouch and it’s obvious that he has questions. They go unasked. He shakes his head, returns the kunai, and places the pouch on the bathroom countertop next to the towels. Another cursory glance and Kakashi’s sighing. He leaves for a moment and when he comes back, it’s with clothes.

Naruto rubs the back of his neck. “I forgot.”

“I figured as much,” Kakashi says. “Do you need anything?”

“Nah.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m _fine_ , Kakashi-sensei—”

They both stare at one another. Naruto breaks eye contact first.

Kakashi doesn’t ask.

The moment Naruto is alone again, he hears voices from down the hall. He doesn’t doubt that they’re discussing what just happened, leaving him out of the loop because Kakashi doesn’t want to say the wrong thing, or… something. He doesn’t know this Kakashi well enough to guess at how the guy thinks.

With a frustrated groan, Naruto drains the tub. He stares at himself in the mirror while he dries off. Now that he’s free of mud and grime, he’s feeling some semblance of normal. He needs sleep, though. After unwinding in the bath, his hours of exhaustion are catching up to him. He feels again for his chakra and now that his mind is clear, he can sense how drained his reserves are. Of course he can’t access it; there’s not much there to access. _Tomorrow_ , he thinks and it reassures him. _Tomorrow I can use it._

Tomorrow he’ll show Obito and Kakashi what he can do. They’ll have to acknowledge that he’s a ninja if he throws out a few jutsu, right? And then maybe they can figure out whatever the heck all of this is and how to get him home. In the meantime, he’ll just have to roll with the punches and stay here with them. It could be worse. If he hadn’t met Obito, he’d probably still be following that road to who-knows-where.

The clothes given to him are too big. It’s not a terrible difference—he’ll deal—but he pouts at the way the sleeves fall partway past his knuckles. He glares at the pant legs bunched at his ankles. They’re not too bad otherwise, though. Not enough _orange_ for his liking, but… they’re not bad.

He wonders if these are the other Naruto’s clothes.

Naruto shoves open the door. The voices down the hall are instantly louder and Naruto is a nosy brat, so he waits in the hall and listens.

"—ot him."

"Then who the hell is he?" Obito sighs, and the sound is long-suffering. "Look, Kashi… I'll handle this. Get your ass to work."

"Obito," Kakashi warns, "I'm not about to just—"

"You got cash for rent this month?" A pause. "Go. I'll take care of it. You're no good to either of us broke."

Naruto tiptoes down the hall and leans to catch a glimpse around the corner. The two men are standing behind the island. He thinks he sees… _something_ , but he's not sure what. Obito's words are sharp-tongued and hard, but Kakashi isn't upset. They don't bother him. This is normal for them.

They notice him. Obito's hand falls from Kakashi's and they both twist around to face him.

Naruto feels like he walked in on two parents arguing. It's all sorts of awkward. He shuffles his feet and tries a weak, nervous smile. "Uh," he says, chastising himself, "am I interrupting?"

Obito scrubs a hand over his face and Kakashi smiles, nodding him in. "Don't worry about it. How do you feel?"

"Better." It feels safe to step inside now, the tension somewhat diffused, but he finds himself gawking at his team leader's double. This is the first time he sees Kakashi smile. Kakashi has smiled before, of course he has. But Kakashi-sensei hides it behind a mask. This one doesn't. It's strange. "Tired, though."

Kakashi nods to the right, at a door on the far wall. "You can use my bed. But first, are you hungry?"

Naruto grins. " _Starving._ "

"Take a seat. I'll fix something up."

He never knew his sensei cooked. He takes a tentative seat at the island as Kakashi pushes himself up and over to the fridge. Kakashi moves along the counter in practiced motions, with the speed known to Naruto through his teacher's ninjutsu prowess.

He's so distracted that he almost doesn't notice Obito watching him between splayed fingers. Obito looks like he has things to say but he's silent. That only makes the whole situation worse, especially when Obito has been so chatty since they first met. It's like Naruto's done something wrong, but he doesn't know what.

Naruto comes to understand that he needs to be the one to break the silence, else no one will.

"So…" He drums his fingers along the countertop as he searches for a topic. "You're an Uchiha."

Obito props his head up on his hand to watch with narrowed eyes. "What's that supposed to mean, ninja-boy?"

Naruto pouts. All he ever gets from this guy are stupid nicknames. "Do you have the sharingan?"

"The what?"

"Sharingan," he repeats. There's an urgency to his voice. Both men are staring at him now, Obito from the stool next to his and Kakashi from his place at the stove, and there is no recognition. "The kekkei genkai, y'know? The red eye thing that lets you copy your opponent's movements and stuff? It's like _the_ Uchiha pride. You don't know it?"

Obito frowns. "This isn't a comic book, kid. What are you on about?"

Naruto knows what this means but he doesn't like it. He wants them to understand. No matter what, he wants them to understand. He leans forward and wonders if maybe they know it as something else. "It's a bloodline trait. Sasuke and his brother have it, so I thought you would, too. But I don’t know you. Kakashi-sensei ha—"

Oh.

They’re waiting for him to continue but he can’t. Naruto’s too preoccupied with the implications of what he was going to say to continue that thread. He sees them and he sees Kakashi-sensei, a bearer of the sharingan with no Uchiha blood. And he sees Obito, an Uchiha who he has never met. He sees two men, two friends, who share a strong enough bond to tolerate living together.

Kakashi-sensei’s sharingan is a gift and Naruto dreads everything that comes with that.

The two exchange looks. Kakashi’s cooking is left forgotten as he wanders over, placing a hand on Naruto’s shoulder. “You okay?”

Naruto shakes himself of his stupor and grins. “I’m fine,” he says, “just thinking about something. Is the food ready yet? I’m _dying_ over here.”

Kakashi isn’t convinced. He smiles anyway as he returns to the stove. “Just about.”

“Quit being dramatic,” Obito sighs, rolling his eyes. “Kashi—head out. I’ll take it from here.”

“I’m almost done.”

“You’ll be _late_.”

There’s that look again—the one that they share when they have something to say. Neither says it. Eventually, it’s Kakashi who relents. He steps out of the kitchen and Obito takes his place in one fluid motion. Kakashi’s by the door and getting his shoes on soon after, but Naruto keeps drawing his attention.

This whole thing is a mess.

Before he leaves, Kakashi rummages through the drawers of the console in the hall. He fishes out a notepad and scrawls across it a series of numbers, ten digits total. Tearing the page out, he offers it to Naruto.

"Call me if you need me."

Naruto takes it. Even as he does, he's wondering how the hell he's supposed to contact this guy with a series of numbers. But he nods. Obito is watching him and he won't make trouble, so he nods.

Kakashi leaves and they're alone, Naruto fingering the corner of the paper, studying it in the hopes that it will share its secrets. He jolts from his thoughts when a plate slides onto the counter in front of him, but man is he glad. The ramen earlier filled his stomach, but it felt like an empty meal. It wasn't anything like Ichiraku. This, though—this looks like _food._

"Thanks, Sasuke's cousin!"

"Obito," the man corrects, leaning his weight onto the counter. "So I've got some questions for you, Nart."

"It's _Naruto._ "

"I damn-well know what your name is," he says. Naruto knows that he does, but the nickname is stupid and he'll never get used to it. He doesn't… _hate_ it. He can't. Obito's a stranger, sure, but Obito also let him ramble on about ninja and the Hokage when this world clearly has no ties to them. Not once did Obito claim that Naruto was lying. Not once was he interrupted. "You know Sasuke. You know Itachi. And you know Kakashi, too, dont'cha, you little shit?"

Naruto makes a face. "Well, yeah. But um. I don't think—"

"Don't think. Just answer the question."

"Yes. I know them."

"Good. Great. _Fantastic._ But you don't know me."

"No. I don't."

Obito snorts, nodding his head. Naruto's meal is left untouched between them. "Now why is that?"

Naruto hesitates. It's not something that he's known to do, but it's something that he can't help. It doesn't last. He knows that if he's going to get home, he's going to need help. He'll need people on his side, people who want to get him home, and who better to trust than his sensei's roommate?

"I don't know _them_ ," he says finally. "I know different versions of them. Or something. Kakashi-sensei, he's my jōnin instructor. He leads my team back home. Sasuke is—he _was_ on the same team, but he's… gone now."

"And I just," Obito waves his arm, "don't exist there?"

He's taking it pretty easily, so he must have already come to the same conclusion as Naruto and assumed they're from alternate dimensions. That's good. Maybe he won't be bothered too much. Maybe Obito is the person that he needs to help him get home.

Naruto rubs the back of his neck. "I think you died."

Obito folds his hands together and waits.

"In my world, the Uchiha have this sharingan eye thing. It's really super useful on missions an' they're the only bloodline that carries it. But Kakashi-sensei has one. Just one. He said a friend gave it to him." He frowns. "I think that was you."

Obito scrubs a hand over his face and is slowly nodding, the pieces connecting in his head. He opens his mouth to say something but rethinks it. Then, hesitantly, "You should get some rest. You look tired."

Naruto nods, staring down at his cold plate of food. "Yeah, okay. I'm just gonna eat first."

"Yeah. Do that."

Obito pushes himself up and wanders down the hall. He stops halfway, though, and turns back. "I'm going to turn in first then."

"'Kay."

Obito makes to go, stops again. "Is—"

Naruto waits.

Obito shakes his head and opens the door that he's stopped at. He stands there, brows furrowed, staring hard at the floor. Whatever is gnawing at him, he doesn't say. He's gone and Naruto is left alone to collect his thoughts.

He eats. The food has gone cold, but it still fills his mouth with the refreshing taste of a home-cooked meal. He doesn’t waste longer than he has to on it, though; his eyelids are heavy, his muscles are sore, and he could really use a bed.

The door on the wall behind him leads to Kakashi’s bedroom. It’s the only door outside of the hall, situated between the kitchen and connected living room. When he enters, he isn’t sure what he expects, but this is it. The bed is neatly done, the floor is completely clear, the wastebasket in the corner is empty. The wall opposite the one that the bed is against is covered floor-to-ceiling in bookshelves. They’re filled. It reminds him of one of the walls at Konoha Library back home. There’s a desk beneath the window, a few loose books on top. Paper, pens, notepads. Everything has its place. Naruto wonders if he writes scrolls at that desk for work or something. What does Kakashi even _do_? What _could_ he do if he’s not a jōnin instructor? Sensei was in ANBU before, but this world wouldn’t even have ANBU, would it? There are no ninja. Why would ANBU exist, then?

This whole thing is hurting his head and he’s too tired for it.

Naruto flops down on the bed with a loud, annoyed groan. He doesn’t know how he always finds himself in these messes, but at least the bed’s nice. The mattress is more cushioned than the one he has back home. It’s bigger, too, queen-sized, though Naruto isn’t sure why Kakashi _needs_ a bed this big. He rolls around atop the sheets for a while before settling on his side. He sees a picture sitting atop the nightstand and he squints to make it out, the glare from the window washing out most of its detail.

When he sees it, he’s no longer tired.

Naruto shoots upright and snatches the frame off the nightstand, holding it close to his face. He looks at it carefully, _certain_ that he must have the wrong idea, but the more he thinks about it, the more real that it feels. After all, Obito is in this world. Obito Uchiha, someone who, as far as Naruto knows, is long dead in his own.

It’s his face in the photo. He looks different, not quite himself, in much the same way that Kakashi does. There are no markings on his cheeks from exposure to tailed beast chakra. He looks older, taller, but still no rival to Kakashi’s height. But Naruto expects to see himself in the photo. He expects to see Kakashi, too. They’re brothers in this world, after all.

He does not expect to see two other faces in this photo.

There’s a woman hanging off of this other Naruto’s shoulders, her arm slung across him, a grin on her face. She’s warm and bright and everything he expects from a mother. And she seems—she _looks_ like him. Or he looks like her. It’s enough for him to recognize who she is, to know what role she plays in his life, and he swallows back his emotions as he runs a hand across the glass.

The last face, though…

The last face.

The Fourth Hokage. He’s there, reaching up to ruffle his older, _taller_ son’s hair. He’s smiling. He’s smiling and he’s the Fourth Hokage. He’s the Fourth Hokage and he’s standing in a family photo.

Naruto does his best not to drop the picture. He breathes through his initial panic, but he won’t be sleeping now. He turns the frame over in his hand, removes the back, and slides the photo free. With it secure, he shoves open the window and slides on out. The clothes are too big. They stick on a loose nail, they tear. Naruto feels bad. It’s momentary guilt and it’s over quickly because he doesn’t have time for it. He has a photo, he has questions that nobody in this world can answer, and he has a goal.

He doesn’t know where to start, but Naruto has luck on his side. He’ll manage.

More than anything, he needs this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends. Hope everyone is staying safe. I'm really happy to hear you guys are enjoying the story/ies so far. Here's another chapter for ya!

Obito lies in bed staring at the wall. He’s been doing this for, well, he’s not sure how long. He _wants_ to sleep. He really, _truly_ does. But sleep evades him as his mind runs rampant. So many things have happened over the past several hours that he feels that by going to sleep, he’s just wasting time. He checks his phone. It’s been an hour. He wonders if Naruto’s managed to get to sleep at all.

He shouldn’t be curious about this ‘other world’ that Naruto is from or whatever. Those people Naruto talks about are nothing but strangers. And that’s only if Naruto is to be believed. If the kid’s lying or delusional, well, Obito’s fine with playing the fool. But Obito is a curious creature. He can’t help but wonder about this other Kakashi that he’s never met—some stupid ninja fuck who is apparently perfectly okay with leading a team of children into battle. Or, er… on missions. Or something. Naruto isn’t good at explaining things—a trait that he does _not_ share with their lovable, college-aged Nart—but at the very least, Obito knows that ninjas fight. Apparently child endangerment isn’t an issue to the people of this other Konoha. This isn’t the point. The _point_ is Kakashi. Or, no, it’s not, but—

But Obito can’t stop thinking about him.

He’s not sure what would have happened if he and Kakashi didn’t have each other. Honestly, he probably shouldn’t be worried. Obito is self-aware enough to know that he’s relied on Kakashi far more than Kakashi has relied on him. Kakashi got him through some of the darkest years of his life. Still.

This other Kakashi is a perfect stranger, but Obito can’t help but worry.

With a strangled groan, Obito throws the blankets off his legs and shoots up. This isn’t working. If he’s going to ruminate over it, he may as well ask Naruto his damn questions to get it out of mind. He stomps his way across the apartment and knocks on the door to Kakashi’s bedroom.

“Yo, Nart,” he calls, and he feels bad knowing that he might be waking the kid up, but he’ll make it quick. “Mind if I come in a sec?”

Nothing but silence is there to greet him. He knocks a little louder. Still nothing. He feels less bad about opening the door now.

It swings open to an empty room. The window is open. The picture frame sitting on the nightstand is empty. It takes all of two seconds for Obito to put the pieces together.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

He growls out frustration and spins around, grabbing his jacket off the back of a chair in the living room and shrugging on his shoes with enough haste to make it look frantic. He’s down the stairs two at a time and fumbling with his keys as he runs to the car.

The worst part is that Obito can’t blame Naruto because he’d do the same damn thing in that position. This kid is too much a reflection of himself.

* * *

Naruto is camped out in a tree. Why? Well, it’s because he found the location in the photo. He recognizes some of the landmarks in the background. It’s a park, one that he’s currently in. But see, Naruto was garnering too much attention on the ground. He was sitting on a park bench, staring at a photo, and people kept asking him if he was lost. That’s nice and all—that they cared enough to ask—but he really just wants a moment to himself to think about his next move. He’s pretty sure he’ll be able to find his way back to the apartment when he needs to, but for now that’s not his goal.

His goal is _them._

Naruto knows that it’s stupid to camp out in a park and hope that his parents—and isn’t that just the strangest thing? _His_ parents—stroll on through so that he can find them. That’s why he won’t do that. But now Naruto has the problem of not knowing where to go from here. His chakra reserves are still crap, else he’d be bringing out the shadow clones. They’re coming back slowly now that he’s eaten a little, but he worries it isn’t enough. He doesn’t have Kakashi-sensei’s sense of smell or ninken, though he’s pretty sure summons won’t work in this world anyway.

No, this is stupid. He probably has enough chakra for a _few_ clones. One, maybe two or three. It’ll be _fine._

Naruto brings his hands together in a familiar seal and feels his reserves drop right back down as three clones poof into existence beside him.

The branch snaps under their weight.

Naruto and his clones fall to a heap on the ground. Two dispel, which is _stupid_ because they should be able to handle more than a four foot fall. One is left. Naruto broke its fall. People are staring, though, at the identical twins lumped on the ground.

This is several shades of awkward and he doesn’t like it.

Naruto and the clone scrabble up and agree to part ways. The clone will scurry around doing all the grunt work, and Naruto, well…

Naruto will find another tree.

* * *

Obito is good at what he does. And this, well. This is just another part of the job.

It's not long before he's located a few eye witnesses. He takes their accounts of where they saw the blond ninja brat and traces them down to the river. It's near the residential district, the one Sasuke and Itachi live in, and he knows the area like the back of his hand.

The moment that he sees the little shit, Obito lunges at him. He grabs the collar of Naruto's shirt with an iron grip and watches with triumph as Naruto yelps and flails.

Naruto's struggles last the ten seconds that it takes for him to realize who's grabbed him. He blinks at Obito and then his prying arms fall to his sides. "Oh hey," he says. "It's you."

Obito takes a breath. "Naruto _what the hell_?"

"You _do_ know my name."

Obito does his best to keep from blowing up at the kid but all his efforts earn is laughter and it is really _very_ hard. But he does it. He's a professional. He breathes in deep. "Naruto," he says again, quieter this time, "just what is it you think you're doing out here?"

Upon release, Naruto straightens his shirt and grins. "Looking for my parents! Wanna help?"

Obito does not want anymore headaches. He's already feeling repentant enough about how much of a right terror he was in his youth; he really doesn't need the reminder that Naruto is so much like he used to be. "And why is it you're looking for your parents?"

Naruto stares at him as though it's the most obvious thing ever. "'Cause I've never met 'em."

Why is Obito not surprised?

He feels awkward now. Dirty. He rubs the back of his neck and casts his eyes to the ground. He won't ask. It's not his place, and even if he had the right, he's pretty sure that he can figure it out on his own. What a fucking mess.

"You left your stupid headband at the house," he says.

Naruto's hands go up to his forehead and he makes a face. "Aw, shit! I can't believe I forgot—I'm so _stupid_."

Obito watches him kick at the dirt and chastise himself and it's hard to remember to be angry with him. He ran off without saying anything, just like Naruto—like _their_ Naruto.

Obito's glad that he can deal with this while Kakashi is at work.

He makes an annoyed, frustrated noise and stomps his foot. "You know what?"

Naruto stops his self-imposed scolding to stare at him.

"You wanna meet your parents so bad? _Fine._ Let's play. I'll take you to your goddamn parents."

Naruto breaks into the biggest grin. "See, I knew you weren't so bad."

"Not so bad," he mutters to himself, crossing his arms dejectedly. All this and the kid's lukewarm towards him. "C'mon, then. But you better damn-well be on your best behaviour. You hearing me, kid?"

"Oh, er…" Naruto rubs the back of his neck. "You're gonna have to pick me up, though."

Obito stares. "...Kid."

"I'm in a park somewhere," he says, spinning around and squinting at their surroundings. "I think…"

"What are you—"

"That way!" Naruto points back towards the direct that Obito came from. "There's a park that way an' stuff."

"But why—"

Naruto just grins. "Thanks, Sasuke's cousin!"

There's smoke and the boy is gone. Obito looks around for any sign of the kid, but it's as though he's poofed out of existence. He stumbles back, bumping into the railing on the side of the riverbed, and gathers his thoughts. What—what was it the kid told him this morning? During that ninja rant—something about ninjutsu, or clones or—but Obito thought he was out of his _bloody mind_ , he never—

Obito covers his face with his hands and breathes through the initial rise of panic. But there are a lot of implications running through his head right now, none of them good.

Naruto is telling the truth.

Stringing together curses like a melody, Obito heads for Rivers. It’s a park not far from his apartment and it follows the river. It’s in the direction that Naruto pointed to—fits the bill. He gets in his car and goes through the motions of driving as he works through what he just saw.

Obito finds Naruto dozing off in a tree. The boy yawns and slides off his perch and onto the ground. He stretches and waltzes past Obito without a care in the world. It’s only when he realizes that he’s not being followed that Naruto looks back. “You coming?”

“What was that back there?”

“Huh?”

“That—you just _disappeared_.”

“Oh. That.” Naruto grins. “Just a shadow clone. Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh I’m worrying alright. How did you—”

“Chakra.”

“What?”

Naruto shrugs. “Had some chakra saved up.”

“But what does that even mean?”

“That I could make a shadow clone.”

This cyclical thinking is going to put Obito in an early grave. Whatever. Maybe it’s best he doesn’t get his answers.

* * *

Naruto stares at the red door to the two-story house that Obito's brought him to. It's big and white and the architecture is nothing like the houses back home, but he expects that. Nothing about this world is anything like his own, not even the people. He hated it at first, but with time comes adjustment. It no longer feels as strange and foreign as it did before.

Obito nudges him with an elbow and he looks back. There's aversion from his chaperone, which is fine. It's pretty clear that Obito thinks this is a terrible, horrible, no-good idea. Naruto's inclined to agree. To his parents, he's been missing for seven months, and it's obvious that he's not the Naruto they're waiting for. Kakashi figured it out right away. Obito, too. So it's impossible to know just how they'll react when they see him. When put like this, yeah, this is a shitty idea. They should just go back to the apartment and pretend this never happened.

But to Naruto, these people are dead. This is his one and only chance to meet them and he'd be stupid not to take it. And Dad—

Dad is the Fourth Hokage.

"Kakashi's gonna wring my neck for this," Obito mutters. "Knock. Let's get this over with."

Naruto feels a little bad about this. Only a little.

He knocks. From beyond the door comes a feminine voice. It calls to them, but he can't make out the muffled words through the wall. They wait for the sound of a latch. The door swings open. Beyond it is a redheaded woman who stands a little taller than Naruto, a metal bowl tucked beneath one arm, a utensil in her hand.

They clatter to the floor and roll down the porch steps. She doesn't notice.

Naruto is vaguely aware of Obito scrabbling down the steps to grab her things, but he can't pull away from the woman—literally. Her arms are around him too quickly and too tightly for him to move against them. He squirms a bit, listening to her shaky breaths as she tries to push them closer than their bodies will allow. His name falls from her lips, a mute whisper, again and again.

Mom's knees are weak. When she starts to fall, Naruto uses his own strength to hold her up. She almost brings him down with her, but Naruto's anything but weak, even tired as he is.

"Look at you," she says through wet breaths and he realizes that she's crying. "You're so small, little man. What happened to you?"

There it is. The guilt. Naruto swallows back his words and doesn't say anything. This woman is overwhelmed and he doesn't even know her name.

They're brought inside. Naruto is led to a dark red sofa where he surveys the room. There are pictures on the wall, family pictures, and he sees himself there. A little older, a little happier. He sees Kakashi, too, a trophy in his hand for something-or-other. He sees Kakashi again, a small Naruto on his shoulders, smiling for the camera. And then he sees that woman. She's in most of the pictures somewhere, sometimes inserting herself in a frame where there's no room for her. She's pushy and confident and grinning all the time like she's too big for the world to contain. In two photos, he sees Obito—a young Obito filled with anger and something else. Obito isn't smiling in the photos, even when Kakashi is. He stares defiantly at the camera with deep-set eyes, crossed arms, and bitter frowns.

The current Obito has his legs kicked up in an armchair, his shoes still on. But for all that he's made himself comfortable, he isn't. He fidgets, focused on the rummaging sounds from the kitchen. He bows his head and doesn't meet Mom's eyes when she offers him a drink. Mom doesn't care. She just smiles.

"You look tired."

Obito takes the coffee in his hands and stares wordlessly into the mug.

Mom turns on him, to Naruto now, and seats herself in the loveseat across the sofa. She's a pale woman with fiery red hair. It cascades down her back, stark against her skin, her dark eyes watching Naruto like an open book. "What are you thinking about?" she asks.

Naruto stiffens, rubbing the back of his neck. "Um."

She tilts her head, prodding him without words.

He points to the photos. "Just, um—just wondering where Dad was… in the photos…"

She follows his gesture to the pictures on the wall, leaning forward to rest her forearms over her crossed legs, that soft smile playing on her lips. Unlike the others, she hasn’t questioned him yet. It’s as though she knows that he’s not her son, that he’s a stranger, but she’s not saying anything. She’s accepted him into her home regardless, offered him a place to sit and something warm to drink. Moms seem pretty great. “Who do you think was taking those pictures?”

Oh. That makes sense. It’s no less disappointing, though. He wants to see more of that man—the Fourth Hokage. He wants more proof that all of this is real.

“Your father and I met on a walk through Konoha forest, you know. I was halfway through my hike and there he was, leaning halfway over the riverbed with his foot on a mossy rock, this bulky camera in his arms. He was trying to take a photo of—gosh, what was it? I can’t remember. Some bug. Little thing, you could barely see it. He had this weird little lens attached to it. Some beetle, I think? Was that it?”

From the armchair, Obito’s thrown back his head and closed his eyes. He’s heard this story a thousand times before. It’s written all over his face. The familiarity of the topic must have abated some of his concern, because he’s looking ten times less tense.

Naruto stares at the pictures on the wall and tries to imagine the Hokage eagerly setting up the frame for a camera in each one. He doesn’t know if cameras are the same here as they are in his world, but it’s hard to picture the legendary Fourth lugging one around.

“He wanted to be a photographer back then but he just didn’t have the eye for it.” She shakes her head but her eyes are far off, stuck on a memory, and Naruto wonders what it is she’s seeing. “Are you hungry? Do you need something?”

 _Where have you been?_ She wants to ask but doesn’t. Naruto gets the impression that his double has disappeared a few times before this. Obito said something to that effect, too, didn’t he?

“I, um.” Naruto sits stiffly on the sofa. His eyes are on the table because he’s feeling too awkward to look this woman in the eyes. When he demanded to meet her, he never expected it to be so damn uncomfortable. He’s not normally like this. He’s never shy or quiet, and he _always_ has something to say. So why now? “No. I’m fine.”

“You sure, little man?” Mom looks to Obito for guidance, but Obito’s eyes are closed and he misses her cue. “I could make ramen? Would you like that?”

He almost says ‘yes’. Instead, he fiddles with the rim of his cup and tries to relax. “Could you… finish the story? Of how you met Dad?”

Naruto knows that she must have told this story to his double ten times over. He knows how suspicious it looks for him to not know how the story ends, and yes, he promised not to cause trouble. But Mom knows that he doesn’t know. She’s already caught on. He doesn’t know how, but she’s already one step ahead of them. So it’s fine, right? It has to be fine. She’s smiling.

“Well,” she says, “I’m coming up behind him on the path and I see some dumb kid about my age halfway to falling in the river. I don’t see the camera at first, but he’s not moving, he’s in a precarious position. So I ask him if he needs help. The moment I do—bam! Right into the water. But get this.”

Naruto sets his mug down on the coffee table and leans back into the cushions, his body lead against his efforts. Exhaustion sweeps over him like a wave, brought on by the warmth of the house and the warmth of her voice, and he fights it to hear the rest of the story.

“His hands are still dry. He’s holding them up above the water, _somehow_ saving that damn camera. I’ve never met a kid with reflexes like that. When I pull him out he tells me how much the damn thing is worth and I kid you not, I almost drop him.”

But Naruto doesn’t get to hear the rest. He’s too far gone for the words to be anything more than a distant echo. Warm, secure, in a home that’s not his own.

* * *

Obito sets Naruto down gently in the bedroom on the second floor. He pulls the covers up to the boy’s chin, tucks the ends in one by one, and stares into Naruto’s sleeping face. The kid’s out cold. No surprise there, considering that all the sleep he’s gotten since they met is a power nap.

It’s Nart’s room, the one that he stays in whenever he makes a trip back from the dorms. Nart’s phone is resting on the nightstand, long forgotten by its absent owner, no doubt. He snatches it up and turns it on. It lights the blue shadowed room in a haunting glow as it turns on. Naruto’s pin is as predictable as it always is—his birthday. The kid’s never been great at remembering numbers. The moment it’s on, a string of nonstop buzzing starts up, notifications from here and there, messages. People have been trying to contact him. Everyone has.

The first day, it wasn’t a big deal. Naruto ran out early in the morning, probably back to his dorm. Forgot his phone. That stuff is normal for the kid. He doesn’t have his brother’s memory. It happens. The only one concerned was Kushina, saying that he would _never_ forget his phone, that it’s practically his second brain. Which was fair. At the time.

Even after a week, Kakashi hadn’t worried. He’d shot Obito a few words, though—because if anyone fought with Naruto, it _had_ to be him, which was entirely unfair—and demanded Obito be the one to bring him back. But that was it. Naruto disappeared from time to time, a week, two, and there was nothing to be done about it. It was normal.

It was two months later that Kakashi regretted his inaction. It was three that they started to lose hope.

Obito swipes away the notifications and sets the phone back down. With Kushina’s permission, he’d like to give it to the kid as a way to keep track of him. Anymore disappearing acts like that and he’s sure someone’s heart will fail.

He closes the door behind him and makes his way down the stairs. On his descent, he can see the corner of Kushina’s apron as she moves through the kitchen. Something warm is cooking. Steam fogs up the window over the sink and he catches the scent of cooking onion.

Obito keeps his head low as he looms in the kitchen entryway, unsure of what to do or say. He knows that Kushina will be demanding answers from him and he wishes he had any to give but he’s just as lost as she is.

Guilt weighs him down. He failed her once and now he’s created a bigger mess, all because he couldn’t stomach the look Naruto gave him.

“Who is he?” she asks. She’s standing over the sink, starting on the dishes that have piled up as a pot boils on the stove. There are raw vegetables on the counter that she’s yet to get to, a package of unopened udon noodles behind them.

Obito rubs the back of his neck. “Honestly? I don’t know. I thought he was Nart at first, but now I’m not so sure.”

Kushina lets the moments pass. A plate slides onto the drying rack, water droplets rolling down its rim, and she dries her hands on her apron as she finally looks at him. “Where did you find that boy?”

“The woods,” he says. “A bit aways from town. Stumbled out of the trees like a drunkard while I was on my way back from a call. He wanted to see you, so. Here we are. Sorry about that.”

“No. Don’t. It’s, I don’t know. Good to see his face. But I have _so many questions_ , Obito.”

“So do I.”

Kushina props back against the counter and crosses her arms. “Well, now what? What’s the plan, kiddo? You’ve got to keep me in the loop now, you got me?”

He was afraid of that.

“Wait ‘til he wakes up and bring him home, I guess. If he’s not there when Kashi gets back I’m pretty sure he’ll have a damn heart attack. Can’t have that. I need him to pay rent.”

“Always the romantic.” Kushina is smiling. It’s tired and small but it’s there. It’s not something she shares with Obito often these days. “Bring him over again.”

“You sure?”

“I’m one wrong word away from keeping him here, so don’t push it.”

Obito knows when to back down from a threat. Kushina’s about as threatening as they come. She works security at the hospital. She’s damn good at it, too. Obito has the body of a police officer but that lady has the body of a tank. She used to be a bodyguard back when Naruto was a kid, but a change of pace was needed once Naruto started school and she could no longer keep up with her hectic hours.

The pot boils over and Kushina curses as she scrambles to turn down the burner. A string of colourful words follow. Obito would help, if her stubborn pride would allow it. Instead he leans against the doorframe, stifling a laugh. He’s pretty sure she won’t see the humour in it.


End file.
